where the writers are
Luniverse

“ … Is the universe we are living in the only one? What if, when you got into your car this morning to drive to work, another you in another universe got into a different car and drove to the beach instead? Seems hard to believe and maybe more like science fiction, but some theoretical physicists say we might exist in one of many universes, or in a ‘multiverse’, as they call it …”

Ira Flatow introducing the author of The Hidden Reality: Parallel Universes and the Deep Laws of the Cosmos on National Public Radio’s Science Friday

 

 

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 8:30 a.m.

Hi. Are you one of the other me’s that I’ve been hearing so much about? I have to admit that I was pretty skeptical about this new Facebook Multiverse App, but with my wife Janice finding so many of her other selves in parallel universes I thought I’d try it out. Anyway, I’m getting into my car to go to work right now, so - if you’re me … or I’m me - write back when I get a chance. I’d love to find out more about myself.

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 8:30 a.m.

Yep, you found me. I was just about to get in my car to go the beach when I saw my message. I’m actually just one of my other me’s. Not sure how many other me’s are out actually there, but last time I checked on Facebook I counted 574 me’s in 575 different universes (not sure why there’s no Bert Esposito in that 575th universe except that I might still be embarrassed about getting drunk at Bobby Klosterman’s barbecue and trying to unhook Melba Puccini’s bikini top). Anyway, I’ll be home from the beach by the time I get home from work so write me back if I want to (unless I write me back first in which case I won’t have to).

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:30 p.m.

Hi. I just got home from work and it was no day at the beach, let me tell me. By the way Freddy at the courtesy desk told me to tell me that the next time I go to the beach when I’m supposed to be at work in a parallel universe he’s going to talk to Mr. Owens about it. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything about it to Mr. Owens (because after all I was at work), but I would watch myself If I were me. I’m just saying. BTW – Don’t say anything to Janice about that thing with Melba. She really means nothing to me, but I don’t have to tell me that, do I.

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:30 p.m.

No Bert, my secrets safe with me, and I wouldn’t feel guilty about Melba if I were me. All 575 of me know that Janice doesn’t really understand the real me. And speaking of guilt, tell Freddy that if I want to take a day off and go to the fucking beach, I’ll take a day off and go to the fucking beach. I gotta tell me that it was a lot easier to take a god damn day off before theoretical physicists figured out a way to break through to parallel realities. And by the way, just wait till I tell Mr. Owens about the time that Freddy spent three hours with that hooker at the sports book in Atlantic City while he was at the courtesy desk in a parallel universe trying to help that Pakistani woman exchange her deep fat fryer.

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:31 p.m.

Bert, it sounds to me like I’ve still got a little leftover anger from my childhood. Isn’t it time that I outgrew that? And, BTW, don’t forget that revenge never got me anywhere (remember Ernie Kelly and that time with the elephant dung at the petting zoo for handicapped animals? Just think about that mess for a minute and tell me if you still want to get even with Freddie at work).

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:31 p.m.

Bert, I’d really appreciate it if I’d stop patronizing me. Who do I think I am anyway? Do I think I’m so much better than me? How about that time at Sarah Berman’s house when her little sister found me in their upstairs bathroom fondling her mother’s nylons. I forgot about that, didn’t I? Remember, Bert, if I don’t forgive me, who will?

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:32 p.m.

Bert, I really don’t appreciate my tone. And how dare I bring up that time at Sara Berman’s house. I thought that that was just between me and me. We’ll I guess I’m seeing the real Bert now. I have to say that I never did like me from the first time I met me. Look, don’t try to get in touch with me anymore. I’ll write me first if I want to hear from me.

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:33 p.m.

Bert, don’t be this way. Think about how much I love me. Don’t you remember when I took me out to get drunk after Sara Berman dumped me? Remember how I held my head over the toilet all night so I wouldn’t break my neck and then how I sat up all night crying with me? Doesn’t that mean anything to me?

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:33 p.m.

I told me not to contact me anymore.

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:34 p.m.

Bert, please don’t be this way.

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:34 p.m.

Bert???

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:35 p.m.

Bert???

Bert Esposito, July 1, 2067, 5:35 p.m.

Hi. Are you one of the other me’s that I’ve been hearing so much about? I have to admit that I was pretty skeptical about this new Facebook ‘Multiverse’ App, but then I checked on Facebook and counted 574 me’s in 575 different universes …

Comments
1 Comment count
Comment Bubble Tip

Multiples of Everything

Very clever and fun read. I could hear the voices, echoes, and reverberations all through the cosmos. Seems like the portrait of insanity having to keep all of the versions of oneself straight. What will you do next with this line of thinking? Play? Short story? ???

cheers,
Christine